still...falling

to let myself fly, to let myself sit, to let myself fall. i'm working on all that. (these images take me there viscerally.) to have no control except go where the moment delivers me and be alright with that. to stop thinking that i have to look at it and work it out. though i'm often confused about the idea of how letting go shares space with the power of thought and action. where does one begin and the other end? how to take responsibility for my words and desires, while still being ok with whatever happens? (though in a way, reading that last question, i see it's probably as simple as that: say it, ask for it, not be attached to the outcome.)

i have discovered that i feel safe when i can't see. when i'm moving in something and i can feel, but i don't have any vision around it. i let go. then i soar and climb and sit and no one else is there for me, yet i feel safe. i feel shrouded, contained, held. i can feel truly with no calculation. now take that into the hours when my eyes are open and i'm moving through the world. my obsession with sleeves and pulling them over my hands as if i want to climb inside, yet i want to be seen and to touch. sometimes i want to touch through something because it's less raw, less electric. as if i need a buffer. but i'm beginning to want to touch it bare. live it in the light.

i never wanted a nightlight when i was a kid because the darkness felt fine. once, when i thought the organ next to my bed was playing "The Hills Are Alive" all by itself, i knew not to tell my mom because she'd say it was just a dream and i'm sure i knew that, but if she told me then i thought the magic would go away. just holding on to the What-If-ness of my organ actually playing by itself was a moment i wanted. some things i don't want to expose to the light, and i think that's ok, yet i'm also finding my way to living in a place where i can ask and i desire, and wherever i land, i'm so happy with that.


*photos by nina (click on her name to learn more. She's got some amazing photos.)